Mine
by rickmanfan1978
Summary: Love story between Granger and Snape
1. Mine

Cue: Snape is stumbling back to his quarters in the dungeons, gait unsteady, dark blood dripping onto the stony ground. His breath is ragged. He has just returned from a meeting with Voldemort who had tortured him. He bumps into Hermione.

Hermione: Sir!

Snape: [takes a deep breath and says in an unsteady voice] Carry on, Granger.

Hermione: But you're bleeding.

Snape: I would mind my own business Granger. Why don't you ...[starts to sway unsteadily]

Cue: Hermione makes a grab for Snape who has no choice but to lean on her for support. She smells blood, dirt, sweat on her Potions master.

Hermione: I'll get Madame Pomfrey!

Snape: [in a faint voice] No, help me to my quarters.

Cue: Snape's quarters. They barely made it as Snape collapsed on his bed. It is unmade. He sits up on his bed trying to heal his wounds but unable to because both the palms of his hands were slit deep and he can't hold a wand in his hand.

Snape: Dammit!

Cue: Hermione's hands close over his steadying him.

Hermione:[in a quiet tone]Let me help.

Cue: Snape lets a tired sigh of resignation. His hands relax so Hermione can take his wand out of his hands. She gently opens his right hand. He has big hands, calloused. His whole palm was drenched in blood. Hermione dabs a damp cloth over the blood. A hiss escapes from Snape. She looks up, his eyes are closed. Slowly she cleans the wounds on his hands and forehead and then mended them.

Hermione: [traces a line across the closed scar on his palm] Why did it leave a scar?

Snape: [opens his eyes and looks at his palm, looks at Hermione's small fingers caressing his rough flesh] He cut me with a cursed weapon. [Snape's hand slowly curls around Hermione's, stilling her finger. He looks into her eyes.] Thank you, Granger.

Hermione: [small smirk. Other hand touches the raised welt on his forehead, just near his hairline. He leans into her touch. Closes his eyes again]

Snape: [quietly] So tired..

Hermione: [stands up] I'll tuck you in and then I'll be off then, sir. [Out of habit, plants a small kiss on the scar then pulls back in alarm] I'm sorry sir, I used to kiss my nephew goodnight. I'm sorry.

Snape: [pulls her back down, scarred hands enveloping hers]Please don't go. [releases one hand to cup her cheek] Please...Hermione?

Hermione: [hugs him lightly] Okay, I'll keep you company.

Cue: The hug lasts for a few moments and then they pull apart. Snape's dark eyes meet her brown ones. Their face inch closer. He looks at her moist lips.

Snape: [whispers in a quick harsh tone] Stop me if you don't want this. [makes eye contact with her trying to judge her reaction]

Cue: Hermione closes her eyes. Their lips meet. Snape's kisses are urgent, wanting to brand her as his. His breathing becomes more ragged, alternatively nipping and soothing her lips until they become swollen. A small moan escapes Hermione and it undoes Snape. He groans and pushes her roughly onto his bed. He waits for her to protest and when she pulls him on top of her, he surrenders willingly.

Snape: [in an aroused rough voice] I want to feel you.

Cue: Hermione smiles and nods her permission. Snape stops to free himself and Hermione. He waited, poised above her, between her, at her entrance.

Hermione's eyes are closed, cheeks flushed, curls in disarray.

Snape: Look at me.

Cue: They make unblinking eye contact. Hermione startled by the intensity of his gaze and the emotion she saw in them. Snape is perched above her, elbows on both sides of her head. One word.

Snape: Mine.

Cue: And he enters her slowly, making her his. His mouth engulfs hers in a kiss, swallowing her moans as both lose control and finally let go.

[next chapter] check back in 2 days


	2. Hatred

Aftermath

Hermione wakes up. Snape is at his desk, dressed in is black jacket and cloak, grading papers. His expression unreadable. She props herself up on one elbow.

"Hey", she calls out, come back to bed.

Snapes quill freezes and he looks up. His usually stern gaze and frown is back on his face.

His next words chills her to the bone, brings an embarassed ﬂush to her face.

"If you are done Miss Granger, I expect you to vacate my room as soon as possible."

He returns his attention to the papers he was grading.

She couldn't believe her ears! He is treating her like a one night stand. What a fool she was thinking he actually felt something when he possessed her and marked her as his! Tears came unbidden as she angrily gathered her scattered clothing.

Rustlings behind her. Her heart skips a beat. Maybe he was joking with her. He would come up behind her, give her a hug and a makeup kiss. Hermione turns around. Her heart falls.

Snape is at the door. The stack of papers in his hand. He cannot even bear to be in the same room that he is leaving. He turns around.

"Make sure you lock up before you leave. "

With a swish of his cloak and he was gone, leaving her staring at the closed door.

**xPotions classx**

Snape barged into the classroom as usual, causing chatter to stop. He slams a stack of test papers on the table.

"Total rubbish!" he shouted. "The quality of your essays are absymal. Worse, some of you even handed in blank parchments."

His gaze rested upon Hermione's empty seat.

"Weasley!"

Ron jerked up.

"Tell me, is Potions deemed too simple for Granger that she finds it a waste of time to attend it?"

Ron gulped. "She said she wasn't feeling too well and has gone to Mdm Pomfrey, sir."

"No doubt suffering from multiple paper cuts due to reading too many books," he sneered. "Turn to page 384 and brew the Cloning Potion. 50 points deducted for every cauldron melted. Begin."

He sits at the front of class, folds his hands and glares at the class. Every so often, his gaze drops to Hermione's empty seat. Unconsciously he clenched his fists and felt the sting of the scars that she had healed.

xx

He was walking towards the Great Hall for dinner when they crossed paths. He noted that she looked haggard and tired. Her eyes were puffy and red and she had a sickly pallor around her.

"Granger."

She ignored him and continued on her way. Infuriated, he turned around and grabbed her wrist roughly.

"It would be wise to answer when a Professor summons you, girl."

"Let go of me!" She wrenched herself free from his grasp, obliviousto the crowd gathering to watch the spectacle.

"You have been missing potions for 2 weeks now. One would assume you have lost interest in taking your NEWTs..Perhaps you need to reconsider your responsibilities..."

He was stopped short when Hermione slapped him hard across the face. There were gasps from the crowd.

"YOU OF ALL PEOPLE SHOULD TALK ABOUT RESPONSIBILITIES!" she spit out vehemently. She turned around and stomped away.

She hated him. She had given him her heart and he had played with it and like a restless boy who grows weary of his toys, had cast her aside. She had thought he was different, but it turned out he

was exactly the front that he presented to public. Sullen, selfish, sarcastic. When he had called her his, it seemed so real, as if he was speaking from his heart. Now she knew better. The bastard had

no heart.

There were no more confrontations after that. Hermione dropped out of Potions class. They bumped into each other sometimes but neither acknowledged the other. And when Snape killed Dumbledore, it re-affirmed her belief that he was indeed evil and she was better off without him.


	3. Yours

Battle of Hogwarts.

Harry and Hermione are hidden, watching in horror as Voldemort ordered Nagini to kill Snape to gain possession of the Elder Wand. After Voldemort has left, Harry and Hermione approach the dying man.

A terrible rasping, gurgling noise issued from Snape's throat.

"Take. . . it. . . . Take. . . it. . . . "

Something more than blood was leaking from Snape. Silvery blue, neither gas nor liquid, it gushed form his mouth and his ears and his eyes, and Harry knew what it was, but did not know what to do—

A flask, conjured from thin air, was thrust into his shaking hand by Hermione.

Harry lifted the silvery substance into it with his wand. When the flask was full to the brim, and Snape looked as though there was no blood left in him, his grip on Harry's robes slackened. His gaze lifted up to Hermione, who stood behind Harry. With a trembling hand, he reached out to her.

Hermione couldn't control the sob that escaped her, seeing Snape this way. She got on her knees. His grip was so weak, death cold.

"Hey..." he tried to smile. He wiped her tears away from her cheek with the back of his hand. It only made Hermione sob harder. Here he was dying, and he was consoling her.

They were out of time. She had to tell him now.

She took his hand, placed it on the slight swell of her stomach.

His eyes widened in amazement and surprise.

"Yours, Severus..you can't die, please..."

He managed a small thin lipped smile. Caressed her belly, stroking the seed of their love with his thumb.

He held her gaze as long as he could, struggling so hard to remain with her and their child. To not be the cause of her misery, her sadness. But he was only mortal. And his time here was done. He could sense it, his thoughts, his memories, his personality, the core of what made him Severus Snape, starting to fade.

Severus looked at Hermione's face one final time, memorising her beautiful features that had given him peace ever since the night he made her his. He wanted her face to be the last image he saw before his eyes closed forever. He wanted the warm touch of their child beneath his fingers to be the last sense he felt before he was no more.

Severus' grip on Hermione tightened convulsively one last time.

"Love...you.."

The hand holding Hermione's thudded to the floor after those spoken words and Snape moved no more.

She stayed like that for a long time, one hand holding Snape close to her, the other on his hand to her belly. She had long since stopped sobbing but the tears flowed freely, falling in drops that spread onto Severus' jacket. She realized dimly at the back of her mind, that she would never see him adjust his sleeve before popping a student over the head with a book again, nor would he chide or insult her intelligence. He would never be perched above her anymore, his black hair hanging like a partial veil covering his face because it hid his emotions from the world.

She would never hear him declare that Hermione Granger belonged to Severus Snape anymore.

Hermione stayed like that for a long time, amidst the war going on outside. Until Harry snapped her out of her grief and pulled her to her feet. She laid Severus gently on the ground, promising herself she would live to give him a proper burial. She folded his hands together, kissing the scars on his palms for the last time. There was a bundle of cloth in his hands. The cloth was dirty, stained. She unwrapped it.

A bottle of memories. She knew in her heart, this one was not for Harry, but for her.

Writer's note: Thank you for everyone's reviews (good or bad). This is my first fanfic, written during tribulations going on in my own life (not as tragic as Severus' though).  
>The next chapter will be the last I'm afraid. I've had a hard time finding concordance so that I don't break Rowling's story line.<p> 


	4. In loving memory

It's been 2 days after the war. She had just finished burying Snape. It was a small and private funeral, the celebration of the death of Voldemort overshadowed everything, even the spy who had sacrificed himself so that they could all have peace.

'Hermione.'

She turned. It was Harry. He held the Pensieve to her.

~x~

He drifted into awakeness and opened his eyes. There was someone beside him on his bed. Used to a lifetime of mistrust, he reached for his wand, a curse on the tip of his tongue. Then he heard a soft snoring and a bushy head of hair nestled in the crook of his arm. His lips twitched into a small smile and he settled down, remembering last night's affair.

Sometime last night Hermione had divested herself of all her clothing and here she now laid, spooned against him, her vulnerable form rising up and down, deep in sleep.

'Can't blame her for being tired,' Snape thought, 'after the rigorous extra curricular activity last night.'

Snape contented himself with feasting on her curves. Yes, despite everyone's conception that he was a heartless bat and double spy, he was still a man who had sexual needs, who is now being held captivated by Hermione Granger's naked body in front of him. And Merlin, he looked down on his morning erection, 40 years old with the previous decade spent in abstinence, and you've still got it, old boy.

He traced a line down the side of her curves with the tip of his fingers and was rewarded by an involuntary shiver from her. He planted a small kiss on the back of her shoulder while his fingers reached in front, and continued their stealthy exploration of her body. Holding himself off as long as he could. He wanted this memory to last forever.

Finally his fingers drifted down to her center and he gently parted her legs open, slipping a finger down to pleasure her. Hermione moaned in her sleep and arched her back. Her pert little bottom grazed the tip of his erection. Snape drew in a hiss of breath and wondered briefly if she was really asleep or faking. His fingers slid over he juices and he realized, asleep or not, she was ready for him.

Slowly he eased himself into her folds from behind, closing his eyes unable to withstand all the sensations. She was so tight that he winced, having given up her precious virginity to him and he struggled for control instead of ravishing her like an animal. Last night had been a rushed, spur of the moment sex completed in a haze of pain and hurt. This moment now, this is for her.

He slid in and out of her, learning her body, memorizing her reactions, committing everything to memory. His movements became more urgent, his breathing grew ragged with his efforts to control

himself. He reached around, grasping a supple breast in his hand.

Hermione slowly came awake, hazily wondering why the bed was rocking, why she was being rocked so, while there was an incredible sensation of being filled. There was a hand kneading her breast. On its palm, a scar.

Ah.

Snape, realizing that she had awoken, increased the intensity of his strokes. The little minx was gyrating her ass on his every penetration. Had he been a school boy of her age, he would have shot his load there and then.

Still deep within her, he turned her over, adjusting her thighs on either side of him. He leaned forward so they were face to face.

'Good-', he began.

'-Morning.' she breathed, capturing his lips before he could finish.

Snape pushed himself up above her, his hair falling in a curtain around him. She looked so wanton with lust, her lips red and swollen from being kissed, her body flushed with a sweat, her nipples, oh so rosy and swollen and just begging to be suckled. He bent down and took a bud into his mouth, teasing her, delighted to hear the urgency of her moans.

For once, academics was not on her mind. She looked down to see her professor's mound of shining black hair, the same hair everyone used to call greasy, bobbing up and down as he alternately kissed

and suckled her breast. His black hair was actually tinged blue in the morning sun. She groaned and tugged on his hair, pulling him up.

'Fuck me, sir.'

That sneer again. He gave her that sneer when she was in her first year, waving her hands wildly eager to answer his question to Harry on the usages of a bezoar.

Instead he leaned back still wearing that sneer, and started pumping hard into her. His thick thumb fastened on her clitoris, pressing, stimulating. He learnt just the right amount of pressure on her clitoris that sent her out of control, her juices squirting, drenching his hard cock, as she impaled herself onto him uncontrollably over and over again, her moans so loud she was afraid it would bring members of the staff running to his dungeon, wondering if he was under attack.

He waited patiently for her knees to stop trembling around him, until her eyes fluttered open again to look at him. His orgasm was less dramatic, he pumped once, twice, spilling his seed into her. A small groan escaped his lips as he shuddered and fell on top of her. She could feel his quick heartbeat, so strong, so alive, thumping against her own.

After a brief moment, he raised himself up again to look at her. It seemed he couldn't get enough of looking at his Hermione in his bed, so ravished. His expression was so serious, it startled her a bit. He took her small hand in his and deliberately placed it over his heart.

'Yours.'

~x~

Writer's note: To be continued. It seemed like this will go on for another 2 chapters, me thinks. Thanks for the adds and reviews. They keep me going. (at least I know people are reading)


	5. How can I let you go

Anyone watching Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would hurriedly get out of his way unless they had business with him. The Potions Master, notorious for his dark moods, stern face and snappy insults was not someone to be messed around with. However the keen observer will notice that this weekend, today, the Potions Master walked with a slight bounce to his step and although his gaze was steely as always, a slight softening of his features every time it settles upon couples he encountered on his way.

Snape had just returned from Gringotts, withdrawing a family heirloom that he never thought he would need to remove from its vault. Not in this lifetime anyway. It was a ring, presented to him by his mother on his 18th birthday.

'For when you find the girl of your dreams,' Eileen Prince had said, dropping the ring onto his open palm. Young Severus had curled his lip to that thought to which Eileen had smacked him on his head. 'Stop doing that, your face will get stuck that way,' she warned.

Snape smiled faintly to himself at the recollection of that memory.

_I'__ve finally found her, mum_, he thought to himself.

As he apparated back to Hogwarts, he was summoned for a meeting with Dumbledore. In his office, Snape's face paled as Dumbledore shared his plan of defeating Voldemort. Of Snape's part in killing the headmaster hence tricking Voldemort into thinking that he had gained control of the Elder Wand and not Draco. Of the risk that Voldemort will probably kill him to obtain it.

'You are asking me to kill you…and then let myself be killed…'

Dumbledore nodded solemnly, looking down at Snape through his half moon glasses.

Snape lashed out. 'You are selfish! Has it occurred to you that I'm tired of all this and do not want to do this anymore?'

'It is the only way to ensure safety and peace for our future generation, including Miss Granger's,' Dumbledore said knowingly. 'However perhaps there is a way out for you. A sort of insurance, I might say.'

~x~

He was home in her arms. Within her embrace, nothing could touch him. There was only the two of them. His head rested on her lap, his hand absently tracing circles on her knee. Hermione's talented hands caressed his scalp, smoothing out his tangled dark hair.

'Something on your mind?' she asked while her fingers kneaded his temple gently, caressing his brow, his jawline.

'Hmm…' His response almost the purr of a sated lion.

'You can always share with me , you know.'

Snape opened his eyes. She was looking inquisitively down at him, upside down from his angle, her hair falling around him, enveloping him. He tugged her down for a kiss, their lips now familiar with the feel and taste of each other.

Hermione gave a cheeky laugh and stood up, crawling on all fours toward his legs.

'Hey..' Snape complained as his head fell off her lap. 'Oh.' As Hermione nudged his legs apart and unzipped his fly. He was already hard when she took him in her mouth.

It was the most incredible feeling for Snape. The few times women had given him pleasure orally, he had had to pay for the service. Here he was in his own quarters, his own student going down on him unasked. The thought of it gave him goosebumps. He could not control his leg from shaking as Hermione swirled her tongue around him.

Impatiently, Snape pulled Hermione's thighs down and spread her butt cheeks as he tongued her wet pussy wantonly, teasing and probing her clitoris with his sharp tongue. Her slick juices covered his chin and nose. He had not shaved for two days and he used his stubble to full effect, grinding the rough surface to Hermione's smooth buttocks.

Snape now behind Hermione who was on all fours, her buttocks angling upward to him just begging to be fucked.

'You're a naughty, naughty girl.'

She groaned at his dirty talk, arching her back. His hand dove into her folds, coming out slick with her juices. He spread it gently around her anus, probing. Hermione tensed. He leaned forward close to her ears.

'Relax. For me.'

Snape reached for his wand and muttered a transfiguration spell that she could not hear. When she felt his rock hard cock probing her anus and her pussy simultaneously, she knew.

God.

She was going to be double penetrated by the same man. She sobbed as her anus widened forcefully to accept his girth. Pain was mixing with pleasure, the sensation so intense she thought she was going to pass out. Her elbows were already shaking. A sharper pain. Snape was pinching her nipples hard. Pounding into her, his back bowed so he could pinch both her nipples.

With a heave, he lifted her up so that she was impaled on both his cocks. He thrust up into her, rhythm growing erratic, desperate for release. His teeth clenched on her earlobe. Trying to kiss it, but missed in a haze of passion. So he bit and sucked and fucked Hermione as hard as he could, wanting to fill her completely, never wanting her to forget him when he was gone. He came hard, pumping deeply into her, uttering a yell so savage, so tortured, Hermione twisted around quickly to make sure he was alright.

As he slipped out of her, his spell ended. She wiped the tears from his cheeks worriedly. Professor Snape was crying. He would not look at her, the many times they had made love, he always made sure they maintained eye contact.

'Severus?'


	6. I desire you

'Severus?'

He looked at her beautiful face, trying to memorize everything at once. Her concern for him, that slight furrow between her brows.

'My sweet Hermione..'

He pulled her into his embrace and she willingly let him, not understanding, but wanting to give comfort to this man and be comforted.

Snape placed his chin on top of her head and closed his eyes. Hermione shivered a little and Snape conjured a toasty blanket over their cooling bodies. They stayed like this for a very long time and eventually, exhausted from their earlier exertions, the younger couple fell asleep.

He could feel her body relax with sleep as her hug on him slackened. He smiled a little to himself and gently lowered her on the bed so as not to wake her. He lay beside her, one hand curled possessively over her waist. Kissing her forehead, he whispered softly, 'Please don't hate me for this. I wish there was another way.' His eyes welled with unshed tears and he strengthened his resolve.

'Ob…..obliviate.'

~x~

Hermione struggled to take a deep breath and jerked herself out of the Pensieve.

'How dare he?'

The late Snape had erased her memories of their times together. She only recalled their first night and his cruel dismissal the next morning. He had left that memory intact so that her hate for him could fester. Gave her a reason to hate him and move on with her life. She had a suspicion on the why, but she had to know.

Hermione dove into the Pensieve once more.

~x~

It was after Snape had try to go after her and she had slapped him in front of everyone. He was in an abandoned room. Snape looked like he had aged 10 years, his eyes dead, his expression tortured. Hermione's heart clenched. She was the one who had turned him into this. She reached out to touch him but being a memory she just passed right through him.

He was hopelessly drunk, slouched lazily on a chair, staring into the Mirror of Erised. His usual black jacket was unbuttoned up the sleeves and his cloak lay in a pool on the floor. Hermione followed his gaze into the mirror. Being in his memory, she could see what he saw.

She walked closer.

Instead of the decrepit room, they were in, the reflection showed a cosy home. Hermione saw herself looking back, a slightly older and plumper (gasp!) version of herself. She was holding hands with Snape, their hands and wedding bands intertwined. A streak of gray highlighted his usual black hair and it was cropped shorter. Seated on the ground, staring up to them was a toddler who, no doubt, was their son. The kid had both hands up in the air, asking to be carried up. Older Snape's lips twitched involuntarily into a smile and he mouthed a clear no, along with his son's name which Hermione could not make out.

The mirror cracked right between their reflections. Hermione took a step back in surprise and looked back at Snape. His hand, palm open now revealing the scar was reached out toward his imagined family. Tears were streaming down his face but he was not sobbing, not grieving for what he desired that will never come to pass.

The cracks on the mirror spread, distorted the vision. The mirror of Erised was a very old piece of magic that was protected by Dumbledore's spells when it hid the Philosopher's Stone. Snape, as drunk as he was, was removing the wards one by one in his grief. His jaw clenched at the effort but his hand did not waver. His emotions were so strong, he did not even need his wand to focus his magic.

He clenched his fist and the mirror exploded outward, destroying the reflection of his desire, his family forever. Hermione flinched automatically but she was unharmed, safe in his memory. Shards of glass cut into his face, his hands but Snape did not care about such trivialities. He pulled out a sharp piece that was embedded in his hand, unsteadily, looked into it. It was now an ordinary piece devoid of magic, and only showed his own, miserable face. A few drops of tears fell onto the shard blurring his reflection, mixing with the blood from his hand. He let out a strangled sob and flung the piece away from him.

Burying his face in his hands, he wept unashamedly to his heart's content with no one to witness, no one to comfort.

'Hermione..'


	7. I remember

_Writer's note: I was reading through the Harry potter fanfic archives and I realized that one of the authors wrote a story line like mine (and better :D) No infringement intended, this was pure coincidence._

Astronomy Tower. Death Eaters all around.

His wand pointed at Dumbledore. The moment that would decide everything.

'Avada,' he began.

_**I can't. **_

_**You must, my boy. Everything must go to plan. Or Lily would've died for nothing. Remember what you must do after. Please.**_

'Kedavra!'

A blinding jet of blue light shot out of Snape's wand.

Blue. Harry never mentioned the color.

Hermione was not there that night, but she was now, in Snape's memory. The Avada Kedavra spell always casted green. She had read it.

~x~

Snape's new quarters as Headmaster of Hogwarts. An old suitcase stood beside the bed open but unpacked. As if its owner knew that his stay here would be a short one. Snape was bent over the writing desk, quill in his hand. She read over his shoulder.

It was a Muggle will with a letterhead of Old Bailey Solicitors. He was filling out the details with no expression, as if he were grading papers. Snape signed his name with a scratch, folded the paper and attached it to a school owl that was perched on the window sill. He was lost deep in thought as he stroked the owl's head and opened a window for it to fly out. When that deed was done, Snape looked at another sealed envelope on his desk.

Hermione Granger.

He picked it up, walked to the Sorting Hat who was perched on a high shelf.

'Keep this safe for me, will you? Hermione Granger will come looking for this someday. Make sure she receives it."

The Old Sorting Hat folded upon itself and the envelope disappeared within its many leathery creases.

With a tired sigh, Snape turned around and scanned the room, looking for unfinished tasks to complete. Hermione realized with a heavy heart that he had the air of someone who was putting his affairs to order, a man who was going to face the gallows that very same night.

Finding nothing, Snape approached a full length mirror in the Headmaster's quarters. Hermione, watching this memory, followed and stood behind him. He looked at the reflection of his pallid face. Tiredly, he ran his fingers through his hair, which had in fact turned quite greasy these last few days.

'Please don't hate me for what I've done,' he whispered softly, stroking the scars on his palms, which had become a habit of his. He looked up. Hermione froze. For a moment, it appeared as if Snape had made eye contact with her across time.

'Finite oblivirum incantantum.'

Hermione's head snapped back as if slapped, staggered a step backward. Memories were flooding into her brain in a jumble. She gasped as a switch was unlocked in her mind and all her feelings for Severus rushed into her heart.

_Severus knelt on the couch in front of her. Kissing her hand. By the lake. Wrapped in his embrace. Breakfast at the Great Hall. Stealed glances. Him cornering her in the corridors. Foreheads touching, just breathing. On his bed, being possessed by him. Her hand over his strong beating heart. Hers. _

Hermione stifled back a sob. He had given her his love and then erased her memory. She had not remembered but he had had to look at her and suffer her hate for him every single day after that until the day he died. Why did he have to be so valiant?

'Oh you stupid man….you stupid, stupid man.' She reached out to touch Severus in his memory and he dissolved into a cloud of black smoke as Severus Snape's final memory ended.

~x~

Severus' letter

_Hermione dearest,_

_If you are reading this, then Dumbledore's plan worked and I hope that the war is finally over. There was no other way for Harry to defeat him other than this. And that was a gamble in itself. I'm sorry I cannot be there for you. There is so much I want to tell you but have not had the chance. _

_When Lily Evans died, my only life purpose was to see to Voldemort's demise. And when he's dead, I was going to take my own life. Being a Death Eater sears into the soul and I have done things that condemn me to Hell thrice over._

_I never thought anyone would give a damn about me after I had chosen this path for myself. Thank you for caring about me and giving me the chance to love you. You won't remember any of our times together because I had to alter your memories for your own safety. _

_My mother gave me this ring to give to my soulmate. I used to scoff at the idea, who would love someone like me? Somehow you did. This is for you Hermione, please keep it with you so in a way, I'll always be close to you._

_If Dumbledore's plan worked, there is a future for us, if you can find it in your heart to still love this old man after you have learned the truth._

_Please forgive me for the pain I caused you. _

_Yours,_

_Severus_

_~x~_


End file.
